Chapter 6

London, England, UK

2020

When the world cried, he wanted to cry.

"One more year..."

London's downpour of sorrow only reminded him of his own.

"...and I'll be free."

His feet hurried across the wet pavement, his footsteps creating a rhythm as they splashed through the puddles.

"But what does it matter?"

The sky impaired his vision with its own flood of grief, its tears tampering with and weakening the glow of the street lamps which served as a guiding light amidst the night's darkness.

"I don't have anywhere to go, anyway."

He wanted to join in with the world as it mourned. Its tears would hide his own.

"I'm a nobody."

He'd share in London's grief.

"No family."

Revel in its darkness.

"No history."

Bask in its lonesomeness.

"No name."

Rejoice he wasn't the only one lost.

"No identity."

So as he sat down on that bench, drenched in the sky's cold and wet sorrow, he felt a foreign sense of familiarity. Like it was where he belonged. That dreadful orphanage seemed to take all those feelings away, but here, he could feel them as clear as day.

Like the sun was shining and the downpour dissipated.

And for a moment, it really felt like that.

"Here, you look like you could use this."

His green eyes raised slightly, just enough so his hood still covered his face. And that's when he saw it, the source of his momentary comfort.

An umbrella had been placed above him.

"May I sit here?"

His nod was automatically generated. It didn't matter whether he wished for the bringer of the umbrella to sit there or not.

"Merci. You can call me Francis."

He eyed the hand that was stretched out to him. His own hand, stuffed into his pocket, refused to budge.

"Not a hand shaker, I see." Francis pulled his hand back into his jacket pocket. "Or a name giver, for that matter."

What was there to give? His real name was a mystery to him.

"Not a talker either."

He had already decided not to entertain the stranger sitting next to him, but his voice seemed to have other ideas.

"I don't have a name to give."

Francis' blue eyes didn't try to hide his surprise. "You don't know your name? How unfortunate! One's name is an integral part of one's very identity."

"Well, then maybe I don't have an identity."

It was a question he'd often ask himself, only now it wasn't rhetorical.

"Nonsense! Everyone has an identity." Francis' free hand had emerged from his jacket pocket now, adding its gestures to the theatric tone in which he delivered his insight. "Surely, there must be something you identify with. Something you can call your own."

And as his mind yelled no, his eyes fell upon a Union Flag waving recklessly, back and forth in the rain and wind.

"Believe it or not, I was once in a similar situation as to yourself." His hand had retreated back to his jacket again. "I didn't like who I was or what I was set to become. So I decided to change that. Become the man I wanted to be. I wasn't always Francis Bonnefoy, you know."

And as Francis stood up from the bench he pleaded with himself to ask him to sit back down, to tell him the whole story. But then, either luck was on his side, or Francis was a mind reader.

"I became a spy. I took on a new identity, wholly different from my own. I became who I wanted to be." He then smiled and handed him the umbrella. "Here, keep this."

And as Francis walked away, blonde hair swaying in the wind, the world's sorrow seemed to resonate with him just a tad less.

Washington DC, USA

May 2, 2028

This isn't who I want to be.

Arthur held Oliver Langlais' false files in his trembling hands, his gaze fixed on the agent's photograph. His green eyes were not met with his own, but rather the blue eyes of another. He was probably imagining it, but he could've sworn he saw that same look of surprise in them they had that night.

Why am I doing this to you? The Francis in the picture didn't answer his rhetorical question this time. This isn't who I want to be.

Francis Bonnefoy was not his best friend. It was doubtful whether he was even a friend at all. Friendships were built on trust and that was something Arthur did not give away.

He could even go as far to say he hated his French partner. He was French, annoying, too dramatic, and did he mention French?

But as far as he knew, the annoying, dramatic Frenchman was an innocent man, undeserving of the fate to which Arthur had so wrongfully subjected him.

Was it too late to ditch his initial plan? Maybe he could just tell Alfred and Matthew that he was unable to retrieve the files. Things like that happened, right? He could figure out a different way to lead them off course, preferably one that didn't involve framing annoying, yet innocent Frenchmen.

Oh, great, here they come. So much for that idea.

"Hey, Arthur! Mattie told me you were able to infiltrate the DGSE and get this guy's info." Alfred freed the papers from Arthur's grasp, his eyes lighting up as he scanned the contents. "This is totally awesome, dude!"

"That's not what I said, Al-"

"Not sure I'd call it infiltration." Arthur tried to retrieve his alias' false files in a last attempt to cover up what he'd done, but it was futile as Alfred was already too engrossed in the misinformation.

"Check it out, Matthew!" Alfred threw the papers down on the table and dropped into a chair. "We're only two days in and we've already dug up a goldmine."

"More like I dug up a goldmine."

Matthew sat down and took his turn at looking at their target's files. If he was any bit as enthusiastic about it like Alfred was, then he didn't show it.

After taking a quick look, he picked up Francis' photograph. "It's just hard to think that we need to kill him."

Would you say that if it was me you were looking at?

"We can't question the job, Mattie." Alfred took the picture from him. "Don't think I've ever seen this guy before. What about you, Arthur?"

Francis was here, in Washington. He couldn't let them chance upon him. He needed to move the investigation out of the country.

"No, I can't say I have." He took the picture from Alfred. "But despite the wealth of information this gives us, I'd say we only have two leads if we want to keep suspicion at a low right now."

Matthew pointed to the phone number and home address written on the page. "You mean these?"

"Precisely." Arthur put the picture down and gestured to what Matthew was pointing to. "I went a step ahead yesterday and tried to track the location of his phone. While I couldn't pinpoint it exactly, I was able to narrow it down to Paris."

"So we're going to France?"

Alfred seemed to be on the right page, so his plan just might work.

"It sounds the most logical." Though it really isn't. "I propose one of us stay here just in case."

"I can stay."

Any chance to avoid having to murder. How typical of you, Matthew.

"Fine, then. Alfred, looks like we're going Paris together." Why did it sound so much more torturous when he said it out loud?

"Cool! When do we go?"

We?

He really needed to report back to London so he could give them some grand lie to stall for time. And just the thought of being stuck on a plane with Alfred for nine hours gave him air sickness.

Why shouldn't two spies fly together? "You know, I think it's probably best if we fly separately. That way we won't arouse any suspicion."

"I have to agree with Arthur, Alfred." Thank you, Matthew! "I'd also suggest you leave on separate days."

"Always ruining our bonding time, Arthur."

"What? What bonding time? How many times do I have to tell you we're partners, not friends?"

"Guys, can we please get back to business here?"

Seriously, why is Alfred so adamant about this whole friendship thing? "I have some things to take care of tomorrow, so I'm afraid I won't be able to get to Paris until Saturday."

Matthew took out his phone. "I'll look up the earliest flights available."

"Guess that means I'm going first. Alone."

Arthur didn't take Alfred's glare personally. He didn't owe him his friendship, his trust, or anything for that matter.

"There's a flight that leaves tonight that isn't completely booked yet." Matthew said. "You'll arrive by tomorrow."

"Alright, just book it."

Well, that went a lot easier than I expected. Should probably get out of here before anything comes up.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Matthew said as Arthur stood up. "One of us has to go report back to Headquarters today. I won't be able to and Alfred has to catch this flight so can you please do that, Arthur?"

It's probably better this way.

"Sure."

"I'm so glad you're back, Lukas." Tino placed the two cups of coffee on the table and took a seat across from his guest. "It just isn't the same without you."

Lukas took one of the cups and brought it to his mouth. "You overvalue me. Is my brother too much for you to handle? I know he can be a pain sometimes, or rather most of the time-"

"Emil is fine." He picked up his own cup and held it with both his hands, welcoming the warmth of the steam as it rose to greet him. "I don't think he likes this arrangement too much, though."

"He'll survive these last two months until he graduates."

"I'm sure he will." He took a sip of his coffee, wincing as it slightly burned his tongue. "And I'm sure he'll be a bit more happier now that you're here, even if it is just for a couple weeks."

Lukas shrugged and placed his cup back on the table. "I wouldn't count on it."

The Finnish exchange student was well aware of the tension that lie between the brothers. Ever since Lukas had made his decision two years back, the fire between them just continued to grow bigger as each one refused to acknowledge its presence, let alone its danger.

"Thanks again, Tino. For having him here while I'm away."

"It's not a problem. I"m happy to have him here, though I worry about you all the time, you know."

Lukas just shrugged again. "Why do you waste your time worrying about me?"

If he had any bit of a temper, he would have slammed his cup down on the table in response to Lukas' indifference towards how his absence affected him. "Because you don't!"

Lukas raised his eyebrows; his way of expressing shock. So maybe he did have some bit of a temper. Whatever the case, he was still one to immediately apologize.

"Lukas, I didn't mean it like that-"

"I know."

Did his expression change? Tino could never tell; Lukas was always a statue. His stoicism was a trait he shared with his younger brother, though Emil slipped up a few times.

Lukas was a mystery to him, rarely told anyone what he was thinking or doing and never gave any reasons for anything. Tino hated holding a grudge against people and he avoided it at all costs, but it really irked him that Lukas couldn't give him, or his own brother for that matter, a reason for what he was now doing.

"I just don't understand." He just didn't have the ability to comprehend why Lukas was so willing to put his life on the line. "Why, Lukas? Why did you join the military?"

"Tino, can we please not discuss this now."

There he goes again, trying to dodge the question. "Then when, Lukas? How long do we have to wait for an explanation? It's not fair. It's not-"

He stopped himself. He had this discussion before with someone else, with him. He remembered where that conversation lead to and it pained him to think about it. He didn't want this to end the same way. It couldn't.

"Tino?"

He just had to make sense of it all.

"Lukas, can I ask you something?" The young soldier nodded, ignoring the sudden change of topic. "If someone close to you made a decision that is right for them but you don't agree with it, would you still support them?"

"Does this have to do with him?"

"Can we keep it hypothetical?"

Lukas nodded. "I guess it depends on the reason for disagreement. If it's a matter of conflicting beliefs and ideals, then I don't think I'd support their decision."

"What if you disagree just because you're afraid. What if their decision involved risks that you don't want them to take?"

"In that case, the disagreement is for selfish reasons. You're allowing your heart to make the decision."

He didn't even consider how I felt about it, so wasn't his own decision selfish?

"What's wrong with following your heart?"

"I'm assuming the decision in your question is being made to fulfill someone's goal or purpose, which was probably created by the heart in the first place. Once that goal is set, you need to follow your brain when it comes to the decisions that will help to achieve that goal."

Why couldn't he put himself first? Isn't living more important than any goal?

"I don't understand."

"What I'm trying to say is that you need to follow both your heart and mind, it's just a question of when. By allowing your heart to interfere here, you're going to make it a lot harder for yourself to take on the risks that are needed to fulfill the goals your heart wants to pursue."

Yet even after all that, he still failed. And who has to suffer from it?

Not him.

Me.

"Tino? You okay?"

"Yeah." He stood up and clumsily gathered up the coffee cups. "I'm going to bed. Emil should be home soon if you want to wait up for him."

"Okay...hope that helped."

For Emil's sake, Lukas, don't let what happened to me happen to him.

Arthur just wanted to go home, pretend he was some average guy living an average life, and act like the world wasn't out to kill him, literally.

Talking to Lars about their assassination plans reminded him of just how dangerous this situation could become if he were found out. His French alias was safe for now, but he still needed to come up with a plan for his American alias.

Ring ring.

"Bonjour, Antonio."

"Oliver, good news! Francis just told me he has access to the CIA due to his former job and he might be able to get us some info on Arthur Kirkland. He's on his way to the CIA now. We'll be meeting tomorrow. I'll let you know the exact place later."

"What?!"

Sorry for the long wait, but here's a slightly longer chapter to make up for it.

And some new characters! Just as a sidenote, this fic is going to have a lot of characters with a lot of hidden connections that shall be revealed in due time.

A shout out to the guest reviewer: thank you for your review and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

And to Maruru-tan: Your comment meant so much to me, thank you! I actually had this chapter half written for a while and then I saw your review and I'm like, "you know what? I'm gonna go finish writing that chapter now." Thanks again!

As always, thanks for reading and reviews are welcome. Have a great day!

-britishsconesahoy